Thunder strikes
by chloemcg
Summary: One-shot. One stormy night, Spyro awakens from a nightmare and decides to let his new fatherly curiosity take over as he checks his and Cynder's new egg. Can the mighty purple dragon find comfort with his precious unborn hatchling and fall back to sleep?


**Disclaimer: I do NOT own any of the characters from The legend of Spyro series, the rights to the franchise belongs to Krome Studios and published by Sierra Entertainment.**

 **Thunder strikes.**

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It was a dark and stormy nighttime as lightning cracked in a terrifying whiplash in the blackened skies accompanied by the bellowing cymbal of thunder. Rain came hammering down, absolutely banging against the rooftops and pelting the windows in a half baked assault. The abundance of clouds that filled the skies were as black as night and seemed way sharper than any normal cloud should be and it made the dark chasm of dusk even more gloomy.

The home of a certain purple dragon and his mate was the most affected by this thunderstorm, the rain continued to hammer down and splat on the roof whilst more thunder boomed outside and a streak of lightning snapped.

Then it happened.

Up until now, Spyro had been sleeping like a rock even with the occasional twitch of his legs and tail and the upset moans he'd let out. He had been snoozing whilst he lay on his left side with his large and magnificent wings folded against his back...but then his eyes shot wide open, a gasp as sharp as the point of an arrow had darted from his chest.

His mind was a mess of irrational thoughts and his head rung loud like a bell.

The purple dragon had sat up with eyes full of panic and unrest. His heart was beating so hard that he was at risk of going into cardiac arrest and his mouth felt dry, his throat was pumping and his head was thudding hard enough to make his skull ache. It took only moments until he started to take deep calming breaths, the fog of disorientation gradually started to lift and he proceeded to study his surroundings a bit more thoroughly.

He was in the master bedroom, it was very dark -pitch black. There was no light source, except for the rays of starlight beaming through the window. Yet he could tell that it was probably still early morning, he could hear distant birds chirping their sweet songs in the distance.

Yet it was too dark to see much in the bedroom.

Spyro looked down at himself and noticed that his claws were digging into the plush mattress of his bed. His heart was beating a mile a minute in his chest, causing the gold scale plating adorning his underbelly to barely palpate in response; he was probably shaken up more than he first thought possible. He slowly retracted his claws and slowly lowered his head and allow his chin to rest upon the soft mattress.

He let out a heavy yet shaky sigh of relief.

"It was just a dream..."

But then the purple dragon's frazzled head started to burn and he shook his own head in a mix of frustration and exasperation. That nightmare again, that accursed nightmare! Constantly, on a nightly basis, he would be tormented by the frightening sight of the evil Malefor. He hadn't a clue as to why he kept on reliving that dreadful scenario and he was continuously haunted by it. It made him lose sleep and it was slowly wearing the big purple dragon down, his bloodshot eyes were developing very dark and heavy bags underneath them and he felt absolutely miserable about how exhausted it left him.

Not only that but he was convinced that these dreams would give him a fatal heart attack one of these days...

The purple dragon wanted nothing more than to let his eyes close and try and sink back into the dark depths of slumber but he knew deep down that it wouldn't work and that he wouldn't be able to get anymore sleep tonight. He huffed moodily, upset that he wouldn't be allowed anymore sleep, before he let his eyes wander down towards the ground and he spotted a small something in the darkness.

Spyro perked his head up, curiosity taking hold of him.

For awhile he had been wanting to look at a certain little something that Cynder would guard quite closely, due to her parental instincts taking a fierce full swing, especially as she was raised mostly in darkness, and an annoying little voice in his head would occasionally gnaw at his brain until his restraint was worn to a paper thin wall.

This was the moment where that paper thin wall was being chewed away at a fast rate.

Perhaps he could have a little peak...

Without further ado, he started the sluggish process of dragging himself out of bed, and he did this by pulling himself along with his front paws and using his back ones as oars, being very careful not to arouse his mate; Cynder was tucked under a multitude of blankets and she at least seemed to have been peacefully asleep — so much that she had a blissful smile on her muzzle as she lay on her left side with her long neck stretched out and she rested her head against her pillow.

She also let out soft and sweet purring sounds that vibrated deep from her throat as she snoozed, this was one of Cynder's delightful traits. When she slept and was dreaming, she'd purr away like a cat and Spyro found this little habit to be cuter beyond belief.

The former terror of the skies didn't show any signs of awakening while the grownup purple dragon moved from her side in bed and Spyro successfully dragged himself out from beneath the warm and comfortable covers. He thanked the ancestors that he didn't awaken his sleeping mate since she had the temper of a hostile fire dragon these days.

The purple dragon couldn't help but crack a sincere and light-hearted grin at her though, as Cynder may have been a little overbearing sometimes but he knew that she was simply doing her best. Spyro adored his mate too much to doubt her anyway...and she still could be awfully intimidating at times.

Now that he had successfully hauled himself away from the black dragonesses side, Spyro slowly lowered himself to lay on his chest in order to stretch his front paws out and he let his wings flap reflexively in an effort to get them less sluggish like the rest of his body was. He quietly let out a groan of relief when he felt his joints click satisfyingly, and then he stood up again and quietly made his way to the centre of the room where the item he sought out was.

He kept his steps featherlight as to avoid waking his mate, his paws quietly hit the polished marble flooring.

His spade/arrow-shaped tail swayed from side to side, weaving through the air, and he slowly approached the small wicker basket that sat on the floor in the exact middle of the big room and a cheery smile came to his muzzle when his tired eyes laid on the artifact he had originally sought. The object of interest was inside the wicker basket, it had been bundled up carefully inside a blue cotton blanket; it was his and Cynder's pride and joy.

An egg.

The egg was rather large. It was a bright crimson colour and it was decorated with purple stripes, it was fairly big compared to a regular-sized dragon egg and it looked pretty heavy.

The big purple dragon quietly stood over the egg, allowing the sight of this precious treasure soak into his mind for a couple lengthy moments before he gently craned his neck to lean down and he carefully nuzzled the egg with his snout. His smile dropped to a frown when he realised that the egg felt a tad cold, not too cold but rather on the lower spectrum of a normal temperature. He pressed his nose against the egg a tad more firmly as he let the warmth of his affection seep through the hard shell and into the little life cocooned inside.

The purple dragon had learned, through the pages of ancient books, that dragon eggs needed to have warmth constantly and had to be watched over since they needed careful incubation.

Spyro allowed himself to sit down on his haunches, making certain to let his tight muscles and his stressed mind ease. He took a deep breath inwards, his stomach begun to burn as a fire ignited inside his belly. This fire moved up to his throat and formed a marble of inferno -sparks fizzed from the tip of his tongue and then they burst into heavy flames, yet they were also very well-controlled as they crackled and snapped in the air.

He opened his mouth and exhaled just as deeply as he inhaled and out flowed a surprisingly quiet flurry of fire and light, the steady flow of flames gathered around the egg and acted as a barrier/caccoon to heat up the oval shaped precious treasure.

It was a ring of heat.

Moments passed as the egg started to react to the heat and it shook exuberantly.

The adult purple dragon knew that doing this would cost himself a great deal of energy and he had also come to know that the unborn life inside the shell was probably enjoying the constant heat. Spyro felt that this exercise would seriously siphon his power, yet he didn't much care for his own health...he had to make sure the hatchling inside the egg was getting all the care it needed.

The fire didn't stop flowing from his mouth until he couldn't take it anymore and he was forced to snap his jaws closed.

The storm of fire stopped and all went still and silent.

Spyro huffed and puffed when exhaustion finally took hold of him and he collapsed to the ground suddenly. He was so tired from that activity. Dark smoke had begun blowing from his nostrils and mouth, thus it had risen steadily into the air and gathered into a dark cloud on the ceiling. The puffs of smoke gathered like angry thunderheads above the dragons. His legs were all spread out under him since they felt like water and he could hardly move them an inch he was so tired; thankfully, he knew that he'd be able to regain his lost energy with time.

Spyro lay there, still huffing and panting with heavy eyelids threatening to close over his bloodshot eyes.

The purple dragon managed to just barely fight off against sleep for a few extra moments as he situated himself properly and he curled around the basket with the egg in it with his body doing a small half loop around the egg, his tail fully curling around the wicker object. Spyro swallowed the remaining fire in his mouth, extinguishing it for the moment, and he gently pressed his snout against the egg once again and rubbed it affectionately.

"It's going to be alright," he murmured to the egg in a feeble whisper "I'm always going to be there for you."

As if on cue the thunder boomed outside with a loud cymbal, and lightning flashed again -but this time, the lightning was so bright that it actually shown the silhouette of the unborn baby dragon growing inside the egg for a brief instant.

It was still early days yet the tiny form of a dragon was visible and Spyro just could not keep a smile off his muzzle while tears of pride gathered in the corners of his eyes, he could even feel pride swirl and tighten within his chest. His eyes, though, were feeling like weights and he was struggling not to close them. He didn't want to drift off to a sleep deeper then the eternal void of the Portal of convexity, he wanted to stay properly awake and be rid of those horrific nightmares that plagued him...but he knew better, he knew that sooner or later he'd succumb to his exhaustion and fall asleep.

He couldn't run from it.

Spyro placed a tender claw on top of the egg and rubbed the shell with a delicately feather-light touch, he didn't know why, but he strongly felt that needed to communicate to his unborn hatchling that he loved them and he wouldn't stop loving them.

 _Not ever._

Thus his heavy eyelids finally fell and he lowered his head so his chin was resting against the floor properly, he exhumed a long and deep-throated sigh and his muscles and joints soaked into the marble floor he rested on. He melted like a puddle of water whilst deep relaxation took over and his muscles had basically drooped and become limp and immobile. The powerful purple dragon quickly surrendered to the gentle warmth of sleep as he let the darkness take hold. The last remnants of his willpower to stay awake ebbed away into the black void of sweet, sweet slumber and he could only smile a tad when he actually felt this embrace of warmth and comfort.

It felt as though he was receiving a hug from his mother, the beautiful firefly named Nina whom had raised him alongside his brother, Sparx. He remembered that warmth so very well and he couldn't hold back a small tear streaming down his face as he remembered everything about the one true mother he ever had. Sure, he never had met his biological mother, but that didn't matter. He still had a mother and he would always love her with every bone in his body.

For the first time in ages, he had no nightmares.

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 **A/N: This is my third Spyro one-shot, and its just on time for April-fools day! :D**

 **I had been working hard for awhile on this fic and I hope that it meets all of your standards; it was originally supposed to be a mother's day fic but I wasn't able to post it on time so now its just a fluffy fic about Spyro's feelings about him being a father-to-be...with a hint of motherly fluff. I hope that you guys like it all the same.**

 **Please review and fave and follow.**

 **-Chloemcg**


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